


Curetown Ficlets

by Bardic_Feline



Series: Curetown AU [5]
Category: Left 4 Dead, Left 4 Dead: Ladyverse, Respetc A Woman
Genre: F/F, I will tag for it as I think of it., M/M, old fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bardic_Feline/pseuds/Bardic_Feline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doofy Little fics and ficlets set in Zarla's Curetown AU (one of the many, many offshoots of her L4D Ladyverse AU.  Yes, I know, can I get any more far removed from the original source?)</p><p>These are all fairly old and of varying length and quality; I'm mostly moving it here now because my LJ is being stupid and inaccessible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 'Sha, what are you doing' and 'Placeholder Lyrics' and 'Just a Nervous Habit, really"

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I really like to write stories.
> 
> No, correction...I like coming up with stories, and then making up doofy little scenes for these stories.  Random snatches of dialogue, brief scenarios that don't affect the overall plot, little bits of character building...things that either get me so off track that I take forever to finish a longer story, or cute little things that can't make the final cut for longer stories because they bog down the narrative too much.
> 
> THIS IS ACTUALLY BECOMING QUITE THE PROBLEM FOR ME, because in addition to the book-in-progress which hasn't progressed much lately, I also have something like...4 or 5 unfinished fics in the works, plus countless that haven't gone much past the idea stage. And i just keep getting bogged down with these little scenes!
> 
> So, I did what any logical person would do...I made a separate file just for these doofy little ficlet scenes. 
> 
> All of these are set in the Curetown AU, and the vast majority of them have to do with the daily lives of [Smoker's](http://www.lolhelensucks.com/images/huntersmoker/HunterSmokerfpreboyfriend1.gif)  
> [ex-boyfriend](http://www.lolhelensucks.com/images/huntersmoker/HunterSmokerfpreboyfriend2.jpg),  
> [Juan](http://www.ashido.com/temp/art/HunterSmokerfprewontsay1.jpg)  
> [(survivor)](http://www.lolhelensucks.com/images/huntersmoker/HunterSmokerJuanoops.jpg) and my  
> weirdo  
> OC character, Sha, [(here, a cured male witch.)](http://www.ashido.com/temp/2012-2.png)  Juan is Sha's volunteer helper for REASONS THAT I WILL GO INTO MORE LATER if I ever get around to finishing the relevant fic.  
> (If my LJ was working, I would link to the relevant posts that tell you who the heck Sha IS.)
> 
> Some of these fics are so short that I will put more than one in a single 'chapter'.

_1. **In which Sha is a strange sort of conversationalist ******_

“And so you built a pillow fort.”

Juan's only response to this question was the steady, baleful gaze of glowing yellow-green eyes, peering at him from the shadow of the couch cushion construct.

“In the middle of the living room.”

The eyes blinked.

“Because….?” Said Juan in an exaggeratedly patient tone.

“…Mr. Juan, if you are going to insist on pointing out the painfully obvious, then I really do not see the point in conversing with you.”

“Right, silly me for bringing it up. Did you steal ALL of the pillows and cushions in the apartment for this? That was rhetorical, so don’t give me that look. I’m making coffee, you want some?”

“…extra sugar please?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2\. _**Like you know anything about song writing, Sha. ******_

“…you are aware that you rhymed Tank with tank? Four times?”

Juan stopped writing, and attempted to cover his notes with one hand and gently push the over-inquisitive cured witch away with the other. “It’s a work in progress, damn, quit reading over my shoulder! Also one is referring to the infected, the other the armored tank for which they were named…”

Sha just dodged around the hand and peered closer. “Which is not at all a stupid idea to use more than once, I’m sure. Also, you are rhyming ‘do’ with ‘due’ and ‘dew’. Also, is that…you rhymed ‘things’ with ‘things’, really? And PLEASE do not tell me you have a something ‘teen’ with ‘in-between’ in there. And…really, Mr. Juan, really, quoting the incredible Hulk?”

“What part of ‘work in progress’ are you struggling with here?”

“The part where you committed any of this to paper.”

“THEY ARE PLACEHOLDER LYRICS, I’m working on the melody right now!…damn, this is why I normally don’t work on this stuff at home…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3. _ **Juan has concerns.  Sha has conversational derails. ******_

“Are you gnawing at your bandages again?”

Sha jumped, and sat on his mutilated hands guiltily. “No.”

“Mage-y! Three times this week, three times we’ve had to go back to have those things changed because of this! The Mads are threatening to wire your jaws shut, or put one of those cone things on you…”

“I know. I did hear them.” Muttered the cured witch, staring at the floor. “Especially Dr. Lisa. She got especially descriptive.”

“And yet somehow, here I find you.”

“They just get hot ok. And my fingers itch. And I am bored. And hungry. And are those pastries, did you go by Miss Smoker’s shop without me?”

Juan held the brown paper bag up as high as he could, suddenly finding himself having to fend off the small red-head. “Maybe I did, but that’s not the point, we aren’t done talking about your hands ARE YOU SERIOUSLY CLIMBING ME.”

“No shouting, please. We have spoken about my hands, there is nothing new or interesting to be said on that subject. I distinctly smell turnovers in that bag, can we not talk about that instead?” Sha reached for the goodies, only just missing by a fingertip---err, Distal Phalange length.

“It’s pastry. That’s not a conversation, that’s a dessert menu!”

“Conversation…hmm…ok, did Miss Smoker give you a hard time again? You only ever have that expression on your face after especially trying times with Miss Smoker. “

“…Let’s talk about pastry.”


	2. Views from a stoop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is something mildly therapeutic about watching terrible things happen to your ex-boyfriend, and making wise cracks about it with your current girlfriend.

4. _ **Small talk and a quiet schadenfreud**_

  Smoker was sitting on the front stoop to their building, lit cigarette dangling from her lip, a sewing project in her lap (a small pillow embroidered with profanity), and a certain blind Asian American girl leaning up against her like an oversized house cat.  She was actually feeling pretty good, all things considered; the weather was nice, her joints weren't bothering her, she hadn't had TOO many awkward encounters with anyone today, and Hunter was cheerfully telling her about this and that community project that was coming together in their odd little town of plague rats.

  Hunter was just telling her about a theatre project of some sort...a subject that really did interest her, when the air was split by the bellow of an angry male Charger.  Smoker looked up just in time to see said Charger barreling down the street past her building, a familiar flailing figure trapped in one monstrously warped fist.

“ARRRRRRRGGGHDAMNYOUBARRY….”

Hunter perked up and peered unseeingly out towards the street. “That sounded like that guy who looks after that weird little dude witch…one of your exes…Juan was it?”

Smoker didn’t even bother hiding a small smile, not that her girlfriend could see it. [Yep. Charger guy from Farmer's Market. Again.]  
“MR. BARRY YOU ARE DOING IT AGAIN, PLEASE PUT HIM DOWN, GENTLY, GENTLY I SAID, SMASHING HIM THROUGH A WINDOW DOES NOT QUALIFY AS GENTLE…”

“And there went the weirdo little dude witch!” laughed Hunter.

[Yep. That was Sha, alright.] Smoker paused in her typing, and thought for a moment. [Which reminds me…I’m low on sugar.]

“Hee, yeah...I can imagine, with all the witches around here.  They'd all try to live off nothing but cookies and lollipops if you let them, I swear. So, should we go help them, or what?”

Smoker, not at all confused by the sudden mid-sentence shift in topic, weighed her options. Give up her comfy seat here on the steps with her girlfriend vrs. Not helping someone she tolerated help someone she didn’t like...[Let’s let them try to sort it out on their own for now. So, you mentioned something about a community theatre thing?]

"Oh, right!  So, there's this group Jordan's been talking to...mostly exinfected, but there are a few weirdo survivors...that are talking about turning one of the burnt out buildings a few blocks down...I want to say it used to be a school gym or something?  Into a theatre...I think they are looking for volunteers who are interested in that kind of thing..."

Smoker went back to her embroidery, still listening to Hunter, and quietly smiling.  Neither of them could say afterwards that they really noticed when the commotion down the street finally stopped.


	3. Smoker, that was rude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is nerve-wracking to be a survivor in Curetown, surrounded by ex-zombies. And when one of those ex-zombies is also a bitter ex-girlfriend...

5. _ **This kind of thing happens all the time in these parts, I'm sure. ******_

The sound of a harsh, screaming bellow split the air; the cry of a relapsed Smoker.

“OHFUCKSMOKER, AAAAAHHH!”

Sha blinked as his erstwhile handler dove behind him from protection; he pushed his hood/blanket back from him face far enough to SEE what had made Juan bolt like a startled rabbit. He was rewarded with close-up view of a looming, frowning woman with a rather big nose and an eye patch.

“Hello, Miss Smoker!”

She blinked down at him, before pulling out her text-to-voice device thing, tapping out her message with practiced ease.[Hey, kid. You must be feeling unusually sociable today.]

“Eh, about as much as always, I just did not feel like putting up with his whining about it. It was just easier to agree to go on a walk. How about you? Is Miss Hunter out with you?”

[She’s out with that Parking Gang of hers, plus Little Miss Crazy and Weepy. I’m actually going to meet her now.]

“Heh…yeah, I saw them the other day. Wilhelm and I have kinda started playing chess together. Mr. Juan’s idea, but it’s one I don’t mind going along with most days. Even if it involves trying to play around Mr. Ray; having him griping at us from close range gives it an extra level of challenge, makes the game more interesting.”

[Whatever floats your boat, kid. And, Yeah, Juan…guess he’s got to get SOMETHING right occasionally. So you’ve got a tiny witches coven going, then?]

"Hahahah I like that one! I’ll have to mention it to Wilhelm…oh, hey, is Miss Charger going to be around the shop in the next few days? I came across a book she might be interested in, and…”

“I’m fine now, if either of you are curious.” Came an irritable voice. “Heart rate finally came down from the ‘oh shit, I’m going to die’ level.”

[If you can whine about it, you’re probably fine. What were you saying about books, now?]

“Ummm…it’s about…thing…poultry raising, yeah! I remembered she mentioned something about egg production of your hens being lower than normal, and I think this one might have some possible answers for that…”

“I hate you both so much right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -'Parking' is Smoker's way of saying "Parkour". She isn't being ignorant, she just doesn't really care enough about it to get the name right.
> 
> -Wilhelm is the real name of another Male cured witch from the shared Ladyverse continuity, more typically referred to as "Warlock'. You can find more about him in the Respect a Woman LJ community. (Just check the correct tags)


	4. Raiden? Raiden?! RAIDEEEEEEEEENNN!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charger has taken up raising hens (as birds are resistant to the green flu...and, hey, they are practical to have around, and Charger IS a former zoo-keeper, so she's gotta keep her hand in SOMEHOW.) Unfortunately, those small, scurrying, feathery things prove to be a bit too tempting a target for Hunter...

6\. _**this WILL be a part of something longer; I just wanted an excuse to use that last line. ******_

Charger stepped out onto the roof of their building (which, between a cage of pigeons, a hutch of chickens, and a pair of growing frog and turtle terrariums, was slowly turning into a kind of bird and reptile menagerie) with a sack full of poultry feed held effortlessly in her one remaining hand. She almost dropped it when she saw the state the hen house was in.

“Hunter….!”

~~~~~

“So you’ve been using the fresh eggs in some of these pastries, right? From those hens you got at Boomer and Barry's? I honestly think I can taste the difference…it’s really nice.”

Smoker glared sourly at Juan. [I’d have to take your word for that.]

He had the grace to look embarrassed. “Oh, right…the tongue thing…heh…but the others appreciate it, right?”

[Hmmph. I guess. Me, I’ll be happier when they can come up with a decent replacement for milk, butter, and lard.]

“Yeah, I hadn’t thought about that…no fresh beef or pork, and the only ready lipids that don’t come with a huge import fee are vegetable based.” Sha nibbled on the edge of a muffin. “But these still taste really good, even without real butter.”

Smoker sniffed, and wordlessly stuck an extra muffin in the bag on the counter. Juan gave her an indignant look.

“Oh, right, I say something nice about your baking and get a sour look, he makes a weird comment that can KINDA pass as a compliment and gets extra food.”

[Quit whining.]

“Hey, weird question, but did you guys name your birds, or is do you regard them all strictly as meat and egg producing... things?” said Sha, trying again to start a civil conversation.

[Meh. It was SUPPOSED to be the latter…at least that’s what Charger started out saying…but then Jockey here went and named a bunch of them anyway.]

Jockey (who was helping out in the kitchen that day) didn’t even flinch at this as she continued to move trays of fresh rolls from the oven to the cooling racks. “Hahaha, don’t be like that Smoker, we all know Charger really just misses her zoo animals. Anyway, how could I NOT name those bird, they all have such great personalities?”

“What do you call them?”

[Oh boy, you had to get her started…]

“There all named for characters in this game series I kinda remember my friend liking…something about sneaking around and giant walking tanks and nukes and lots and lots of closeups of guy’s butts…”

“Metal Gear Solid?” guessed Juan.

“That’s the one, ahahaha yeah! So there’s this one with brown feathers who’s always sneaking around and hiding under boxes and clucking to itself, so that one's Solid Snake. And then there is this one with pretty yellowish feathers that’s always climbing everything and squawking really loudly and strutting a lot when you don’t pay attention to it, and that one’s Liquid Snake.”

“Chickens named Snake?” muttered Sha.

“Just…just go with ok.” Muttered Juan.

[What he said.]

“And then there is this one rooster who’s a bit bigger than the others, and kinda has lighter brown plumage, but, but he kinda fades into the background, so he HAD to be Solidus Snake. WE also have this one that I guess got into a fight with another chicken before we bought it, so it only has one eye, and that one is Big Boss, and and…”

Jockey was really getting into talking all about the roosters and hens, and the plans they had for hatching some of their own chicks, and the chore schedule they’d worked out for their group on who did what caring for the birds…and she might well have kept on talking if at that moment, Hunter hadn’t burst through the front doors, looking rather frazzled.

Not that it’s possible to look graceful when you have a mouthful of feathers, and a chin smeared with chicken blood.

[Jeezum crow.]

“Hey, uh…funny thing…I…MAY have had a teeny tiny relapse just now while…umm…gathering eggs? Yeah..heh…all those scurrying little feathery things, you know.” The traceuse rubbed the back of her head, distinctly sheepish air about her. “Anyway…umm…we are sorta kind down about 2 or three birds, including one of the roosters, and I MAY have torn up some of the fencing getting to them and now there are chickens all over the roof and can I just hide in the back for a while now because both Charger and the landlord want my head on a pike.”

Everyone gapped at her for a second. The feathers were mostly a kind of brownish tan color.

“HUNTER! How could you? “ said Jockey, finally. “That rooster was the PRESIDENT.”


	5. Insomnia and failure: a case study

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is why you probably shouldn't give into the temptation to hug a cured witch when they cry.

7. _ **The last bit makes this whole thing retroactively funny, if you think about it. ******_

Juan woke up abruptly, late that night, sweating and feeling sick to his stomach. Jumbled mental images still stood out all too clearly in his mind’s eye, phantom sounds still vivid in his ears… _the mandible and throat of that one guy dissolving under wave after wave of glowing acid…the lights leaving a pair of otherwise gentle eyes before the roar of the unstoppable giant who wasn’t so unstoppable after all (he had all but begged to be shot near the end, oh god), the flash of a smoker’s tongue before it wrapped around an unwary throat…_

After several minutes of this, it became obvious that sleep was going to be impossible, and Juan swung his legs out of bed and stood up. Shivering violently, he made his way up towards the tiny apartment kitchen, only to stop abruptly at the door.

“Why am I surprised that you are already up, Mage-y?”

The red head, who was huddled UNDER the kitchen table, jumped, almost hit his head, and looked at him with slightly wild eyes. “Umm…up? Not exactly. Um. Not precisely, no, not UP, that is to say that…”

Juan held a hand out and put it carefully over Sha’s mouth, bringing a swift halt to the babbling. “In order for you to be UP, you would have had to have gone DOWN in the first place. You really haven’t slept at all tonight, have you?”

“Err, no, not in so many words, no…what are you doing up anyway, shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Juan slumped down at the table.

“Hands hurt. Brain will not shut up. Memories without context…at least I suspect them to be memories and not mental constructs created by my damaged head meats desperately trying to fill in the gaps.” The mage shifted around uncomfortably under the table. “The real problem is that the only thing I have to distract me from my brain is my hands, and after that I don’t have anything to distract me from my hands.”

“That almost made sense…must be a side effect of sleep deprivation.” Muttered Juan.

“Then why are you awake?”

“…nightmares.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“’Oh, I understand’ is all. Were you expecting something else?”

“…yeah, I guess it would be a bit much to expect you to…I dunno…” _act sympathetic, or at least curious? A hug, a meaningless acknowledgement, something?_  “…say more than just ‘oh’.”

The silence stretched between them for a long, uncomfortable moment, before…”Maybe I could risk making a pot of tea…if I used both hands, and didn’t overfill the pot…”

“...ok, I’m just going to ask outright, at the risk of you looking at me like I’m an idiot again…Why exactly are you muttering about tea?”

“Because you are clearly upset, and tea is a thing that is supposed to make it better, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say or do. I maybe could manage that much…then I wouldn’t be completely useless to you.”

It took Juan’s sleep muddled brain a few minutes for that one to fully sink in; he shoved back hard in his chair, and peered under the table at Sha. The skinny witch was steepling his amputated fingers, and fidgeting in a quick, agitated manner that he only ever showed when he was afraid of messing something up.

“I mean, I could just SAY that I feel bad for you, and I do…besides, I’d rather feel bad for you than for myself…but that’s not really very productive or helpful, just sitting around saying that I feel for you.” Continued the mage, absentmindedly biting at a loose thread coming off the edge of one of his bandages as he spoke. “And and I’m just tired of feeling completely useless.”

“You aren’t useless.”

“No, I’m not. You are correct.” Sha had both arms wrapped around himself, his knees pulled up to his chest. He wasn’t crying, but the tears were in his voice. “Worthless would be a better term.”

Juan would later cite temporary insanity; the truth was probably closer to the fact that in that moment, Sha, with that level of self-loathing and despair hanging around him was remind him a little bit too much of HIM. *(It didn’t help that thanks to the recent nightmares, HE was particularly close to the surface of his thoughts.) Either way, all he could think was ‘No, no, I’m not going to lose you, too.’ As he all but dove under the table and pulled his friend into a tight hug.

“You. Are NOT. Worthless, Mage-y. You aren’t. Don’t say that shit, cause you aren’t…”

He was babbling, scared, and (he realized later) talking WAY too loud and being way too intimate. He wasn’t sure how he managed to mentally block out the fact that Sha had tensed up completely, like a cat being held over a warm bath. So by the time he heard the warning growls over the sounds of his own desperate reassurances (and he wasn’t sure WHO he was reassuring anymore), it was too late for him to do anything about it.

“Let. Go. Of. Meeeeeeeeee…”

“Oh, fuckmonkeys…you are about to tear my face off, aren’t you.”

“LET. GO.”

“ummm…THINK FAST!” yelled Juan, shoving the now loudly growling Sha back as hard as he could and booking it out of the room as fast as his legs would carry him.

~~

“So yeah…long story short, that’s where all these bruises came from, and why Mage-y refuses to come out from under the bed today. Oh, and we are in the market for a new kitchen table. “

Smoker stared at him over the bakery counter. [All I said was ‘what do you want to order’.]

“Oh, right…loaf of bread, and a couple dozen apology cupcakes, please?”

[Idiot.]

* _Vague allusions to unfinished stories, GO!  Let's just say that Sha HAD a friend who got infected, actually got cured, and then plot happened.  Juan was involved.  I won't say which part, but the incident in question is also alluded to near the beginning as one of those things that shows up in Juan's nightmares_


	6. Conversation from when they were a two-person band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is actually PRE-Curetown, and Pre-Outbreak, but it is so short that I decided to stick it in with these anyway.
> 
> Smoker and Juan used to date, back before Smoker ever met Hunter. Let's listen in on one of their conversations, shall we?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The mask again?”

“Yep.”

“Smoke…”

“It’s a good mask.”

“It just looks so…so…I dunno, gimmicky.”

“Hey, you were the one who was harpin’ on about me wearin’ somethin’ on my face.  And this don’t obscure my voice, the mouth’s wide enough for me to sing, smoke, and drink through…”

“…Please don’t smoke on stage.  And I meant MAKEUP.  Stagelights wash you out more than you realize…”

“Malarky.”

“Hey, this is scientific fact here, you can’t argue with the basic facts of bright lighting…”

“No, I mean Malarky that any o’ that bullhonky really matters.  I mean, if YOU don’t have to wear makeup…”

“I DO wear makeup onstage.”

“What.”

“Just a bit of foundation, and some color so I don’t just fade out.  This is BASIC theatre knowledge, Smoke.  Pffft, and you call yourself as musical fan…”

“Oh whatever…anyway, it’s a nonissue with the mask.”

“If you wear the mask, I’m wearing the hat.”  
“PFFFTT.”

“And the skinny tie.”

“Hey, if YOU want to look like a dweeb up there, be my guest.  The mask stays,”

“Welp, we both get to look silly then.”


	7. Hairties and Hugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things just aren't so easy to do when you are missing the final joint of each finger on both hands. Not that Sha is willing to accept this reality without an argument. (Can you really blame him, though?)
> 
> Also, seriously, Juan, what IS your deal.

“Mr. Juan…?”

“Hmmm?” said Juan as he continued to carefully work the comb through Sha’s curly hair.

“I was just thinking…you know, maybe…OUCH!”

“S’rry.” Muttered Juan, adjusting his movements to try and dislodge the tangle a little bit more gently.

“No worries.” Said Sha, squirming restlessly in his seat. “But…mmm…what was I about to say?”

Juan dropped the comb. “I’unno.” He then gathered Sha’s curls into one hand, making a low tail, and finally dropped the loose hair tie he’d been holding in between his teeth into his now free hand. “I’m not a mind reader.”

“A fact that you have felt the need to remind me of many a time now…” muttered Sha with a slight backwards glance. Okay, so it was less a ‘slight’ glance, and more an outright attempt to look back over his own shoulder, but he hadn’t moved his head very far before Juan tugged…sharply and deliberately…on the bundle of hair. “Ouch! That was deliberate!”

“Yes. It was. Hold STILL, would you? This is tricky work, and I only have two hands.”

“Hmmmp. Aah..that is what I was about to say. I was thinking that maybe I could start trying to fix my own hair…”

Juan just snorted quietly. “Sure.”

“I am being serious! Anyway, I bet with enough practice I could get down managing a comb and pulling back the hair, even WITH foreshortened digits…”

“Not the part I’m thinking about, Mage-y.”

“I mean, if I could get doing that much down, it would be one less tedious thing for you to worry about and…”

Juan, having finished tieing the curls up while Sha was talking, fished around in his pocket and pulled out a spare hairtie. He dangled it in front of the mage’s face. “Here.”

“What?”

“Try and tie that.” Juan stood up and stretched, spinal joints popping audibly. “I’m going to make some tea or something.”

“…why?”

“Just do it.”

Fifteen minutes later, all Sha had to show for his effort was a messy snarl that could charitably be called a knot only in the loosest sense of the word, and a pair of badly shaking and hopelessly cramped hands. He was all but crying in sheer frustration.

“And you want to do try and do that one handed and behind your own head?”

“Shut up.” Said Sha between clenched teeth.

“Just making a point, Mage-y. Chai?”

Sha took the held out cup from the all-too-smug looking Juan, and for a split second considered throwing the hot liquid at the dark-hair man’s stupid skull. But then he felt the warmth of the tea on his aching hands…and the smell of the sweet, spicy drink hit his nose…and he took a sip instead. “Is this honey?”

“Barry and Boomer had some in stock. From Charger’s beekeeping project. Pretty good, huh?”

Sha blinked and took another sip, and savored it for a moment. It WAS good. Crap; even if he WAS still mad enough to retaliate now, he would not have been able to bring himself to waste this tea. He sighed and took another, longer sip.

“Com’ere, you.” Said Juan, pulling Sha into a kind of one-armed hug. The mage squirmed for a moment, before sighing and leaning into it, more resigned than accepting.

Yeah, so the physical closeness actually WASN’T really bothering him right now, but seriously what was it with Mr. Juan and the whole physical contact thing? And how did Sha keep end up making friends with such…touchy-feely people, why was that a thing?

Juan spoke again, breaking into Sha’s thoughts. “I’m all for you working out how to do stuff on your own, don’t get me wrong…”

“Hmmph.”

Juan sqeezed him again. “but maybe we could start with some slightly more realistic goals?”

“Hmmph.” Sha sipped his tea again. “What is realistic for me? We have yet to find a bar low enough for me to clear.”

“Someone’s bitter tonight…”

“Forgive me if I am less than completely happy in the face of the fact that I am a reasonably intelligent adult who lacks the manual dexterity to wash his own hair, much less tie it back.”

“We’ll find something! “ said Juan, patting the mage encouragingly on the shoulder. “Things’ll get better, I promise. Specially now that you are actually letting your fingers heal, ‘stead of chewing them up all the time.”

“I suppose…”

“And hey…maybe we could look into prosthetics or something. I mean, that’s a thing that exists, right? Prosthetic fingertip…excuse me, DISTALL PHALANGES, as if you didn’t know what I was talking about.”

“Linguistic precision is important!”

“Yes yes, ‘say what I really mean’, whatever.”

“Hmph. Well…I do not know much about prosthetics. I am sure that such a specialty prosthetic EXISTS, but I do not know how much they do in terms of restoring dexterity. Furthermore, what are our chances of acquiring such specialty false limbs in the current environment?”

“One, I don’t know, and two, we won’t know ‘til we ask, now, will we?”

“I will concede on that point.”

“Oh thank you.”

“Shush. But I refuse to get my hopes up.”

“Ahaha, alright then, grouchy. Be that way.” Juan was smiling when he said that, and (to Sha’s confusion), impulsively nuzzled the mage’s hair.

Seriously, what was Juan’s DEAL. Sha wondered if it would be worth asking Miss Smoker if Mr. Juan was this way with everyone…

“Hey, you are going to undo all the work you did earlier if you keep mussing it like that!” grumbled Sha.

Juan just laughed quietly. “For the record, though, I really don’t mind being on hair-fixing duty.”

“…you are beyond weird sometimes, Mr. Juan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _(NOTE: I guess this takes place some unspecified point in the future, after they've been working together for a while? I dunno, I just wanted to do a quiet little moment with these two.)_
> 
> _Also, yes. Sha really IS that oblivious. At least when it comes to the whole "someone being attracted to him" thing._
> 
> _On a side note, the original post that this was part of ended with a Night Vale crossover, albeit an unfinished one...but it even less related to Curetown than the previous one is, so...maybe not?_


	8. Juan and Sha’s Continually growing and constantly revised list of Household Rules of Conduct, with added commentary.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (transcribed herein in a far more legible format than the original list, which is in fact scribbled on a dirty apartment wall, and was not originally planned out to include so many addendums. As such, the original list is plagued with misspellings, crossed out words, and badly cramped writing that was awkwardly carroted in ‘wherever it would fit’. Also, one of the writers does not have the full use of his hands, and had to improvise.)

Color Key:  
Juan  
Sha   
Smoker(?!?)

1\. the following things actually DO require ~~Distal Phalanges~~ ~~FINGERTIPS~~ ~~DISTAL PHALANGES~~ That's the same thing as Fingertips! no it is not. not exactly.  
 Friendly games of catch involving balls, Frisbees, or random objects lying around the apartment.  
–That is twice you have broken my nose now, quit trying to things to me, I cannot catch them.   
Swing Dancing, specifically those fancy spin out moves.  
-Or whatever it was you were trying to do when you threw me against wall  
that time.  
-That was an ACCIDENT. Let it go!  
-YOU THREW ME AGAINST A WALL.  
-I was trying to teach you how to dance, not fling you around the room. It was an honest mistake.  
-Tell that to my bruised ribs.  
Holding most cups one handed.  
Holding most plates one handed.  
Handling utensils in a way that doesn’t give you hand cramps.  
Writing (with pens or pencils).  
-wait how are you adding this commentary.  
-see answer below.  
Typing.  
Turning pages, especially really thin paper pages.  
Fastening or unfastening buttons or zippers.  
Tying knots or bows, especially hair ribbons.  
Reaching for things on certain shelves in the house without the aid of a footstool. Handling small, delicate items, period.  
-meaning quit asking me to pass you guitar picks or loose change, or so help me I will find a way to have them all glued to the table and then neither of us will be able to pick them up.  
-Butter knife and a glue solvent.: Problem solved. Sounds like an empty threat to me.  
Nasal passage cleaning…who knew?  
-your on your own for that one.  
-your = possessive pronoun, as in ‘your inability to spell correctly.” You’re = you are, which is what you were most likely going for there.  
-You spent ten minutes trying to remember the word ‘word’ the other day, Mage-y. Let’s not get judgmental here.  
Personal hygiene in general.  
-…once upon a time, I had dignity. Now I need assistance using the restroom.  
-Well, I have to help someone who doesn’t like being seen shirtless to bathe. THIS ISN’T FUN FOR ME EITHER.

 

2\. Do Not Hug Sha, or in any way attempt to initiate contact with Sha (especially when he is upset), unless he gives you explicit permission, or unless he initiates contact first.  
-or else he will tear your face off. It will most likely be an accident, and I will feel really bad about it after, but that will not make a difference to you and your face. How many times must we go over this one?  
-Yeah, well, you’ve yet to live up to this particular threat/warning so whatever.  
-the key word her is YET.

3\. No unexpected loud noises; you must warn Sha what you are about to do and give him time to cover his ears OR YOU WILL DIE. PROBABLY.  
-if you could ever catch me.

4\. If Sha is crying alone in a darkened room, that is not the time to drag him out and and attempt to get him to socialize. Your demise will be swift and expected.  
-Yep, still breathing. Enough with the empty threats.  
-I will stop attemtping to murder you when you stop trying to make me act like a functioning neurotypical person without brain damage.  
-Yeah, you SOUND brain damaged. And we both know that your capacity for 'murder' is about the same as my capacity for unaided flight. You don't have it in you, so again...enough with the empty threats. And seriously, HOW ARE YOU WRITING THESE.  
-SEE BELOW.  
4.5 If Juan is writing in his song writing notebook, he is not to be approached for anything but a life-or death emergency.  
-criticize his writing at your own peril.  
-Produce something that is actually beyond reproach then. In any case, constructive criticism is good for you.  
-Shut up, Mage-y.  
Nice comeback. Very persuasive.

5\. We do not talk about Tory around Sha.  
-Unless we are sure he’s taken ALL of his meds for the day, and isn’t already upset.

6\. We do not talk about Smoker around Juan.  
-Unless the subject is bread. Then by all means, carry on.  
-can't help but notice that this rule doesn't stop HIM from hanging around our place and talking MY ear off...

7\. We do not talk about Hunter around Juan.  
-especially after she’s just visited.

8\. Hunter must use the front door like a civilized human being.  
-I’ve been barking up this particular tree for years, bucko. Ain’t gonna happen.  
Seriously, what is it with you and the dated slang. I suffer from second hand embarrassment every time you use it.  
You do realize that statements like that will only inspire her to use such language around you with greater frequency, yes?  
Darn tootin' it will.  
...I hate you both.

9\. We mean it, Hunter.  
-Why is this its own rule? And why did we bother writing it in the first place? She can’t SEE IT.  
-Miss Smoker thought it was funny.

10\. No dragging Sha by the collar. This shouldn’t even have to be stated.

11\. Sha may not climb Juan. Not even if he’s holding sweets.  
-They were turnovers. And you were holding them out of my reach. What did you expect.  
-This from the guy who almost killed me for hugging him.  
-See addendum about who initiates what and when. Also, why do you insist on hugging me anyway?  
-We need to talk about double standards and shifting goal posts. And I hug you because it is a thing that normal people who are friends with each other do.  
-my brain is broken. I cannot be expected to go by the normal set of rules.  
-That still doesn’t mean you can climb me.  
-It does if you are holding sweets.

12\. Smoker is prohibited from smoking in the house.  
-unless she opens a window.  
-seriously, why do you insist on inviting my ex over all the time.  
-you need to get over that, Mr. Juan. She barely remembers dating you at all.  
-Yet, somehow, she feels the need to scare the crap out of me.  
-Because you always screech like a stuck pig.

13\. No trying to convince Sha that NO ONE CARES IF HE GOES SHIRTLESS SERIOUSLY NO ONE CARES IF THEY ACCIDENTALLY GET A GLIMPSE OF YOUR EMACIATED TOAST RACK OF A CHEST GET IT THROUGH YOUR SKULL NO ONE CARES GOD  
-Shut Up, Mr. Juan.  
-Ok, seriously, how are you ever writing these bits of side commentary, you can’t even hold a pen.  
-With my toes. Standing on a footstool. I do not want to discuss it.  
-…you are going to fall and hit your head, and I will LAUGH. Also, why did you answer this so far down the list, you had to go back and edit in SEE FURTHER DOWN So many times.  
-Why did you WRITE the question more than once?  
-why won’t you let me have the last word on this?  
-Shut. Up. Mr. Juan.  
-I hope you get a concussion when you fall off the stool writing these, I swear.  
-Great. You know who will have to nurse me through that concussion, right?  
-Smoker. Since you apparently have such a massive crush on her right now.  
-What.  
-HEY! Leave me out of this. (And Hunter wants me to add that I am in fact HER #!7@#, thank you.)  
-Hey, no one invited you to scribble on our list!  
-I did.  
-DAMMIT MAGE-Y.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my weirder little story experiments for these things. It's actually been up in my LJ for as long as the first 6 chapters of this have been, but it took me a while to figure out how to change the color text in AO3.
> 
> The weird thing is, Sha's characterization in this universe has actually shifted somewhat since I first started writing these (almost two years ago now!), so I actually had to edit some of these lines in order to reflect that. I've also outright added some new lines of dialogue because bickering is way too much fun to write.
> 
> Also: In regards to Sha "critiqueing" Juan's song writing...the truth is, it's really more like him mildly picking on Juan out of boredom, and Juan blowing it out of proportion. Given how much casual criticism Juan gives Sha about...oh, EVERYTHING, he really doesn't have much room to complain.

**Author's Note:**

> Juan-  
> *Due to the fact that he started out as kind of an expy/Au version of the Ace Attorney Character, Juan is a musician....plays guitar, sings. (I suggested to zarla that he and Smoker used to have a two-person band back when they were dating, and we ended up throwing ideas back and forth about that. Fun times!)  
> *Zarla came up with the idea that a Smoker almost strangled him at one point (as a reference to his AA counterpart's death), and he still has a scar on his neck. As a result, he is understandably nervous around former Smokers, and it just adds a WHOLE NEW level of awkward to when he chances across his ex. (also, it probably damaged his vocal range...a devastating blow for singer!)  
> *I've arbitrarily decided his last name is Rivera; this was Juan Corrida's last name in the Spanish translation of the game.  
> *Juan's nickname for Sha (apart from...well, Sha, which is already short for Shawn in this universe) is Mage-y. This is pronounced may-gee, and is just a cutesy variant on Juan's personal name for the male witch strain in general. (mage.)
> 
> Sha-  
> *Acts more 'witchy' at times than others, depending on various factors; how stressed he is, how social he's feeling, etc. He generally does ok one-on-one, even with a survivor, though he's always weird.  
> *His fingers were amputated at the most extreme joints...the Distal Phalanges or finger tips. (But he is VERY insistent on using the proper scientific term.) Thus, most manual tasks involving precise dexterity are beyond him now, and his hands hurt constantly. To complicate matters further, he has a nasty habit of biting at his hands when nervous or stressed...one that predates his infection. Pity the poor doctor who has to constantly change his bandages.  
> *In public (Juan forces him to leave the house regularly) he either wheres an oversized hooded blanket or cloak thing (always in green for reasons), or sunglasses and earmuffs, or a combination of all three. Cuts down on his chances of being caught off-guard by sudden sounds or flashing lights.


End file.
